Background: Corac was born into a traditional artisan dwarf family living in a small hamlet near Baldur’s Gate. His father was a cooper (barrel-maker) by trade but also made intricate chests and decorative lock-boxes to order. His mother was a brewer of beer and a distiller of spirits supplying the local tavern. From an early age Corac joined his parents in their crafts, learning the cooper’s and cabinet makers arts from his father and the brewers and distiller’s arts from his mother. Corac found himself especially drawn to the propagation and cultivation of fine herbs for inclusion in the family brews. Fungi and mushrooms became an especial interest as Corac found that these could be used to add interesting flavours and unusual intoxicating effects to the brews. To this end Corac bred and trained a variety of pigs to help him in his search for underground fungi such as truffles. Corac will often have one of the truffle hunting pigs with him in his travels.

Also living in Corac’s village was a half-elf priestess of Chauntea who guided Corac in his interest in plants and taught him much of the natural world, beyond the normal experience of dwarf-kind. As a young dwarf Corac was teased by his peers about his interest in plants and his association with the priestess of Chauntea. The bullies jibes about being an “elf-lover” and “not a proper dwarf” cut deep and Corac still tries hard to appear to be an archetypal dwarf, drinking beer (naturally), wielding an axe, arm-wrestling, singing songs about gold, wearing metal armour all the time and generally being as “dwarfish” as possible.

Corac’s devotion to Chauntea was a constant source of friction between Corac and his father. Although Corac paid the proper respects to all the dwarven deities his father could never come to terms with Corac’s veneration of Chauntea and it was this friction that eventually led to huge arguments at home and the ultimatum from Corac’s father that he must renounce the non-dwarven deity or leave his house. Corac left home under a cloud and in bad humour to seek his fortune in the world at large with his father’s words ringing in his ears “You’ll never be a proper dwarf following that namby-pamby herb-haggling gardener!”

Goals: To be the best brewer possible and have his ales and spirits served at the Ducal table.